


What Follows

by SeveralSmallHedgehogs



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Backstory, Domestic Fluff, Epilogue, F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, Stalking, gonna be some fighting not gonna lie, interpretation of canon character with no personality given, that's also here, tiefling De Rolo child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-04-23 17:38:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19155769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeveralSmallHedgehogs/pseuds/SeveralSmallHedgehogs
Summary: All’s been well for a while, and a visitor arrives at Whitestone who may prove to be a threat to the De Rolo family. It’s happened before, after all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As per usual with these, there's some liberties taken with the kids' names and personalities. The antagonist's, too.

History had always happened far too often in Whitestone.

This time it happened in spring, some years after the fall of the Whispered One and everything that followed shortly after. The clock tower was still under construction, though the bear statue already stood at its base.

A traveler approached Whitestone Castle and spoke to the guards at the front, asking to speak to the lord of the castle. They told him Lady Cassandra was rather busy and that she only saw people with appointments, and appointments were only given with good reason.

"Oh, no,” said the traveler. “I am not here to see the lady. No, who is the _lord_ of the castle? The one who is heading the construction of the clock tower?”

The guards exchanged a tired look. “You’re referring to Lady Cassandra’s brother, Lord Percival?”

“Yes! Him.” The traveler smiled. “How do I talk to him?”

“He’s also fairly busy,” said one of the guards. “You’ll have to wait a while.”

“Oh, that won’t do! I’m an emissary all the way from Syngorn!” The traveler pulled his hood down to show his face—he was handsome, as many elves were, blonde-haired with rather soft features. “I’ve been asked to observe the construction of the clock tower! Surely I’m expected.”

The guards glanced at each other again. “We’ll send a message that you’re here,” one of them said slowly.

           

Cassandra was busy and Vex was out on a hunt and couldn’t be contacted, so Percy greeted the emissary alone. “We did receive word that you were coming,” Percy told him. “But it came so long ago that we had figured you to be waylaid. I do apologize. Was your journey eventful?”

“Yes! Horrible, traveling all that way, horrible.” The man smiled at Percy, but his eyes were weirdly bright and sharp, like a couple of marbles. Percy found that it made him uneasy to hold his gaze for long.

So, he cleared his throat and turned to gesture to the tray of tea and sweets that a servant had left on the table for them. “Tea?”

"Yes, of course!”

As the traveler busied himself with the tea, Percy stepped a respectful distance away and clasped his hands behind his back. “I don’t believe I’ve had the privilege of your name?”

“Oh! Morin. My name is Morin Aewenys. No title, I’m afraid!” He laughed. “No, I’ve got so many older brothers were weren’t any left! I’m sure you know the feeling, Lord Percival. You had many siblings when you were young, didn’t you?”

Percy suppressed a laugh of disbelief and turned it into a cough. Perhaps Morin hadn’t received a title because of an unfortunate tendency to put his foot in his mouth.

Morin opened his mouth again and Percy braced himself, but just then, a bark as deep as thunder came from the hallway and a huge black shape barreled into the room, followed by two girls, both nine years old.

“Bobble, no!” yelped one of them. “Sorry, Papa! He got away from us!”

The girls were Vesper and Marie, the second and third oldest of Percy and Vex’s children. Twins. And always full of energy, the both of them. Two years ago they’d found a puppy in the woods and begged to keep it. Nowadays, Bobble was the biggest goddamn dog Percy had ever seen.

Percy glanced at Morin, who had pressed himself against the table, his eyes wide with fear as he held his tea out of reach of the huge creature heading right for him. But Bobble wasn’t interested in Morin, or his tea; he was focused on the table of food, which would most _certainly_ upset his stomach, and then his farting would no doubt be keeping little Elaina up all night.

“No,” Percy told Bobble, putting his arm out and planting himself between the dog and the table. “Bobble, _no._ ”

Bobble screeched to a halt and gave Percy a scrutinizing look. Drool dripped from one corner of his mouth. He seemed to be weighing the pros and cons of tackling Percy to get to the food.

“Sorry, Papa!” Vesper repeated as she and Marie caught up. The twins latched onto the dog’s collar and started to drag him out of the room, though they no doubt wouldn’t have been able to do it if Bobble was _really_ determined to stay. “We’ll take him out in the courtyard!”

“ _Try_ to keep him from crashing the meetings today,” Percy told them.

Once the dog and the girls were out of the room, Percy turned back to Morin. “So sorry about that. Children will be children, and dogs will be dogs. Now, you were telling me about Syngorn, I believe? How is the weather these days?”       

The more time they spent in that room, the more Percy had to conclude that Morin was… certainly a talker. He liked to talk about himself. And he liked to ask questions. Sometimes leading into rather dangerous territory. Percy entertained him as long as he could stand it before he hinted about the late hour and Morin sat up straight.

“Right! Right. Will a servant be showing me to my rooms?”

Percy blinked. “You aren’t staying in town?”

“No, no! I’m from Syngorn! I always stay with the ruling family.” Morin smiled again.

"Of course.” Percy made a note to spread the word to the Pale Guard that this emissary was to be watched. He didn’t like those marble eyes.

 

Morin dined with Percy and Cassandra, though Vex’s seat remained empty. Percy wasn’t worried; Vex knew these woods better than anyone else. She could live out there indefinitely, if she wanted to. Of course, she would have to give up hot baths and food prepared somewhere other than over a fire. Which she would never do for long, if she could help it.

“Where is your lady wife?” Morin asked Percy as soon as they sat down. “You _are_ married, correct? I’ve heard your wife is from Syngorn.”

“Not really,” Percy said. “She spent very little time there."

"Mm. She might have better manners if she had. Where  _is_ she, by the way? Won't she be joining us? Is she ill?"

Cassandra, seeing the look on Percy's face, and knowing his response was going to be sharp, spoke up. "She’s attending to her own duties at the moment.”

“Duties?” Morin repeated. “Do you have a, a state or social event coming up?"

Cassandra frowned. "I'm sorry?"

"Well, she plans events, doesn't she? Isn't that what all noble ladies do with their time? I can't imagine what else she could be doing that would keep her from dinner."

Cassandra gave a half laugh, half cough, and Percy took over to spare her having to come up with a polite response. “Lady Vex’ahlia is the Grand Mistress of the Grey Hunt. She leads the men and women who protect Whitestone and the Parchwood that surrounds it from creatures that may do harm to them.”

“Oh. But she does no hunting herself, does she? Of course not. Merely organization?”

Cassandra's straightened and clasped her hands in her lap. "Lady Vex’ahlia is a deadly shot with a bow and arrow, sir. She leads her hunters from the front.”

Judging by his expression, Morin didn’t like that answer.

           

That night, as Percy was getting ready for bed in the house Vex had built on her land, the door to the bedroom swung open and Vex strode in. “I hear there’s some sort of _prat_ from Syngorn staying up at the castle,” she announced, kicking the door shut and starting to shed her gear.

Percy finished pulling on his nightclothes. “I see you’ve heard about Morin.”

Vex wrinkled her nose. “I’m sorry you had to deal with him on your own, Percy. He sounds like a… a…” She made a disgusted noise and set about unbuckling her armor.

“Well, let’s not talk about him.” Percy sat down on the bed and rested his elbows on his knees. “How was the hunt? How are your hunters?”

She paused. “Well,” she said, “the hunt went very well, actually. Only one casualty—Merric fell out of a tree. Again.” She was busily stripping down to her underthings as she spoke. “But all told, the hunters are showing promise. With a _lot_ of practice, there are a few that might even be as good a shot as you or me. _Someday._ ”  
“I would think so,” Percy said. “You’re a very good judge of talent.”

Vex sighed and reached back to touch her braid. “Would you help me with my hair, dear? My arm is hurting.”

"Of course.” Percy got to his feet. “Did something happen during the hunt?”

“Oh, the quarry gave us some trouble when we cornered it.” She sat in front of her vanity, and Percy stood behind her and started to take her hair down. “Big, mean-looking thing. I’ll figure out what it was tomorrow, in case we’re going to need to be on the lookout for more of them. It threw me into a tree and I hit my shoulder.”

“Ouch. Are you sure you don’t want to have a bath? Soak it for a bit?”

“No, I just want to go to sleep.”

“Ah. We’re going right to sleep?”

Vex half turned to look at him over his shoulder. “Well,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “We don’t have to go _straight_ to sleep.”

“You’ve been gone three days,” Percy pointed out, raising his eyebrows. “It’s like I haven’t seen you in forever. It’s been rather lonely around here.”

Vex thought for a moment. She glanced at the door. “Are the children all asleep?”

“They had better be, I put them to bed two hours ago.”

Vex laughed, and then got to her feet and leaned back against the vanity, pulling Percy closer. “You know,” she murmured, fitting her arms around his neck, “it did get _awfully_ cold in that tent. Can’t tell you how many times I wished I had my husband with me.”

“Maybe next time.” Percy grinned until their lips met.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a day off from work on one of the hottest days of the year and BOY was that a good decision

In the morning, Vex woke early—she always woke early—and carefully disentangled herself from Percy so she could get up and take a bath. She’d wanted only two things last night—a bath, and Percy—and her exhaustion had forced her to pick one. But now she was fairly well-rested, and she took her time in the bath knowing that Percy wouldn’t be up for a long time. When he slept, he slept hard. Once she finished, she got dressed—no armor for the first time in several days. She still appreciated practical clothing and armor, but there really was nothing quite like the feeling of _truly_ nice clothes. Especially when they didn’t chafe like armor tended to. Even her dragonscale armor got tiresome after a while.

Percy was predictably still asleep when she finished getting dressed, curled up half on his side with his face on his pillow, with one pale shoulder hunched against the morning chill. Vex pulled the covers up and kissed him on the temple. He mumbled something in his sleep. Dawnfather help her, but Percy was sweet.

She sat there for a moment on the empty half of the bed, carding her fingers through her husband’s hair. After a moment, he roused and turned his head to look at her through one bleary eye. He mumbled something. It might have been a question, but he was still half asleep and Vex could only guess at what he was trying to ask.

“It’s nothing, darling,” she murmured. “Go back to sleep.” She kissed him on the cheek. He exhaled and closed his eye again, and he seemed to sink back into sleep within a few moments. Vex smiled and got up carefully, so as not to disturb him again.

Later that morning, she was working in the library when a servant knocked on the door and poked her head in. “Excuse me, milady. There’s a man here who’s wishful of seeing Lord Percival, but I can’t seem to find him. What shall I do?”

Vex sat back and looked up at the ceiling. “Is this that Morin person who showed up at the palace yesterday?”

“Yes, milady.”

“Lord Percival isn’t awake yet.” Vex leaned back over her book. “And if that man asks, neither am I.”

“Yes, milady.” The woman curtsied.

"And, could you have some breakfast brought up to me? Something I can eat with my hands?”

“Of course.” The woman hurried off.

Vex turned a page in her book. She’d thought she could get a good handle on what most creatures were—or at least their origin—but she wasn’t sure about this one. It hadn’t seemed like a Fiend, though it had certainly fought like one. And it had been too reliant on sight to have come from the Underdark. She couldn’t find anything matching its description in any of the books she’d pulled down.

Her food came a little while later: a plate of cheese cubes, crackers, and grapes. Vex ate while she read through her books, still looking for a creature matching the description of the one she and her hunters had killed. She was beginning to consider contacting Keyleth about it when Percy knocked on the doorframe. Vex glanced up. “Morning, darling.”

“Morning. Any luck with the creature?” Percy made his way over and grabbed a bite of cheese from Vex’s breakfast plate before she could smack his hand away.

“Get your own food!” she scolded, pulling the plate closer.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to eat in the library.” Percy shot her a quick grin. “Setting a good example for the children, remember?”

She responded with a withering look. Percy reached for her plate again but this time she yanked it out of reach. “I _said,_ get your own!”

“Oh all right.” He put an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. Vex leaned farther over her plate, eyes narrowed, guarding it jealously until he released her and headed out the door. “I’ll see you at lunch,” he told her over his shoulder.

 

Percy headed to the workshop that had been build out behind the house—a safe distance away from anything that might be difficult to replace if the forge caught fire. He hadn’t touched his guns in years—and that was more than all right with him—and today he was working on cutting some gears right for the clock tower.

He hardly noticed how much time was passing until a servant came to ask if he would like his lunch brought to him. The people employed here were used to him spending entire days in his workshop, sometimes even sleeping in a cot there if Vex was out on a hunt or if something was truly bothering him. They normally came to offer him food if he missed the regular meals.

So much for eating lunch with Vex and the children.

“Also,” the woman told him, “Morin Aewenys is here. Again. He’s been in the lower sitting room for at least an hour. Lady Vex’ahlia told me to take him there when he came back again, but she hasn’t gone to talk to him yet.”

“Came back?” Percy repeated.

“Yes, my lord. He already came once this morning when you were still asleep.”

Percy thought for a second. “Well,” he said at last, “if he can wait that long, surely he can wait another hour or so.”

It was bad manners, he knew. But so was dropping by unannounced and uncalled for. Twice. He worked until he reached a stopping point, and then he cleaned himself off as much as was necessary to look presentable and headed for the receiving room the servant had indicated.

He found Morin in one of the tea rooms, closely inspecting the clock on the mantle of the fireplace. He didn’t hear Percy come in, and when Percy cleared his throat, he jumped.

“Oh!” he said. “I didn’t hear you! You are… very quiet!” He looked back at the clock. “Uh—can I ask, how did you do this one?”

Percy pulled the door closed and stepped farther into the room. “That’s not one of mine, actually. Lady Vex’ahlia bought it the last time we visited friends in Wildemount. It was an anniversary present.” The clock was truly a piece of art; the face was smaller than Percy’s hand, but the hands were an intricate filigree gold design and there was a border of hammered gold around the clock face. Even the wood base was carved in designs of flowering vines. It was really rather over-the-top, but Vex had liked it and Percy had liked it, though neither of them had liked it quite enough to keep it in a room they used frequently.

“Ah. Yes. Of course.” Morin gave a laugh. There was a tightness to his voice that Percy didn’t quite understand. Maybe he didn’t like the idea of a clockmaker buying someone else’s clocks. “I came by to see if you might have time to tell me more about your, your innovations and inventions?”

Percy smiled politely. “I haven’t invented anything in a long time, I’m afraid, and my biggest innovation is the clock tower. You’re free to go take a look at it any time you like, though access to the inside is currently… limited.”

“Of course, of course.” Morin nodded a few times and glanced at the door. “Is, uh… is it just you here, then?”

Percy arched an eyebrow. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“Well, no. I was simply…” Morin cleared his throat, and put on a smile. “I haven’t met the rest of your family, that’s all, and I wasn’t sure if that was rude of me. But, no matter. Do you think you might be able to show me around Whitestone? See some of your favorite spots?”

There was a pause. “Of course,” Percy said. “But I’m…  a bit busy, right this minute. I’ll have somebody show you around.”

Percy grabbed the first idle guard he saw and sent Morin off with him. Then he breathed a sigh of relief and went to find Vex.

She was still in the library, and she glanced up when she came in. “Okay, I _know_ it was rude,” she said, immediately parsing his expression. “But I didn’t want to deal with him! Part of what I love about living hear is it’s too damn cold for anybody from Syngorn to visit! I don’t want to _deal_ with those people!”

“What, so you foisted him off on _me?_ ” Percy leaned against her desk.

“You foisted him off on a guard,” Vex replied.

“I’m not _married_ to the guard. Also, part of the guard’s job is to do what I tell him to.”

“Technically he’s _my_ guard, so his job is to do what _I_ tell him to do.”

“Vex.”

Reluctantly, she looked up at him.

“What’s wrong?”

She looked back down at her book. “I’m serious,” she said. “I don’t want to deal with some jilted aristocrat from Syngorn.”

Percy tilted his head, but he said nothing. He let the silence stretch out until Vex sighed and sat back in her chair. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “He just gives me the creeps, all right? I don’t like talking to him.”

“I can understand that.” Percy crossed his arms. “Do you think he’s up to something?”

“People raised in Syngorn are always up to something. Most of them aren’t up to anything fun, though. Velora’s the exception.”

“Would you like me to do some asking around?”

“No, I can do it myself. You probably won’t find much, anyway. I’ve been keeping in contact with Cassandra, and she said the people watching him have seen no suspicious activity.” She sighed. "All we can really do it wait.”

 

Waiting was something that neither Vex or Percy had ever been good at. Percy worked in his small workshop behind the house. Vex went into the woods looking for trouble but couldn’t find any there.

Things were quiet for a little while, until one day when Percy and Vex had gone up to the castle on separate business and had brought a couple of the children with them, since they’d been wanting to visit for a few days and wandering the castle was perfectly safe these days. The kids had long since picked up on their parents’ unease, and it made them restless. The hope was that some exploration would let them work off some of the energy.

Cassandra had made herself very hard to find that day, and Percy had asked after her with several guards and officials who all pointed him in different directions. He was following one to the library, where he’d already been an hour ago, when someone stepped out of a hall behind him and said,  “Father?”

Percy turned. Standing behind him was Petr, Vex and Percy’s oldest child. His ears were just slightly pointed and his hair was black as a raven’s wing, both evidence of his mother’s blood. He had Vex’s eyes, too, but Percy’s eyesight, so at eleven years old he already wore spectacles. But what troubled both his parents was his gray skin and the small nubs on his forehead that would no doubt be horns one day. He had no tail, but he was still clearly a tiefling at any glance. He was doing well right now in Whitestone, where his family was powerful and the people had seen real monsters before and knew he wasn’t one. But Percy and Vex worried about when he grew up and left.

For now, though, he was standing in front of Percy, holding a book that was written in Abyssal. “Do you know where Mother is?” he asked. He had a thumb between two pages of the tome, marking his place. “I can’t read this word.”

“I believe she’s in her library, but she might have left by now. I might know the word, though. May I see?” Petr showed his father the page and pointed to the line that was giving him trouble. “Hm. No, I don’t recognize that one, either. Why don’t we look for her together?”

“No, I can go on my own.” Petr turned and trotted away without waiting for a response. Percy resisted the urge to follow. The boy was trying very hard to be grown-up these days, and there was no harm in letting him practice.

But still, Percy stood there for a moment after Petr had turned the corner. He dearly hoped that Petr would have as much time as he needed to grow up; he didn’t want his son to be rushed like he and Vex had been.

Finally, Percy sighed and turned around—and found him face-to-face with Morin, who said, “Hello, Lord Percival.”

Percy stopped himself from stepping backwards; he hadn’t even heard the man come up behind him. How long had he been standing there? “I’m sorry, were you looking for me?”

“No,” said Morin, looking past Percy in the direction of Petr’s retreat. “I was just looking around the castle. Lovely architecture. I just, I’ve just never seen one before. A tiefling, you know. And so young, too. Poor cursed lad.”

Percy clasped his hands behind his back. “Then is there anything I can do to help you?” he asked, pointedly ignoring Morin’s comments about Petr.

“Ah, I was looking for Lady Vex’ahlia.”

“I’m afraid I haven’t seen her since this morning,” Percy said, not caring if Morin knew he was lying. “I can pass on a message, if you would like me to.”

Morin shook his head and smiled politely. “No, that’s all right. Do you know where she might have gone?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea.”

Morin nodded. “Yes, I was afraid of that. She is _quite_ good at disappearing, isn’t she?”

He was still smiling, but there was something hard in his voice that Percy almost didn’t catch. “She always comes back when she feels like it,” Percy said, leaving out the fact that she wouldn’t be coming back to anyplace Morin was.

“I see,” said Morin, which was weird. It wasn’t, “She does,” or “that’s good,” or even some objection to her going off by herself, which would honestly have been preferable. The simple “I see” said nothing whatsoever, and Percy didn’t like that at all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter a little spicier towards the middle but it only for like... a paragraph

Vex _really_ didn’t like Morin. She had already decided she didn’t like him when she heard he was from Syngorn, and when he showed up at her house unannounced, but now she’d actually _met_ him, at a formal dinner that he’d sort of insisted on “so he could meet the entire family.” Of course, Vex and Percy never subjected their younger children to formal dinners. They rarely subjected _Petr_ to formal dinners.

But it was just the four of them at the table, with servants occasionally in or out, and there was no way to avoid Morin. His voice was making her skin crawl. She hadn’t quite decided how or why. Maybe it was his Syngorn accent. Or the way he glared every time Percy opened his mouth. While Vex was used to this—Percy certainly had that effect on some people— this seemed different than usual. She just couldn’t put her finger on how.

Of course, it also might have been the way he pointedly ignored Petr, taking care not to look at him and refusing to acknowledge anything he said. Petr was only at dinner because Vex and Percy were easing him into dining with formal guests, bit by bit, and this dinner was the third or fifth or something, and he’d agreed to go to every third or fifth or whatever it was. Looking back on it, Vex would wish she had decided to just let him eat with his siblings that day. She and Percy had tried to bring their son into the conversation several times, but Morin always pulled the subject in any direction but Petr’s.

But what Vex _knew_ she hated was the looks that Morin gave her when he thought she couldn’t see him. He wasn’t even trying to hide them from the other people at the table. It took her a bit to put a word to it, but after a time, she felt that the look on his face and the intensity of his gaze reminded her of a dragon looking at a hoard. Something in the gaze felt jealous. Bordering on possessive.

Percy reached to the side under the table and put his hand over hers. When she glanced at him, he raised his eyebrows in a look they’d developed over many years together: he was asking if she wanted to end the evening early.

Vex looked at Petr. Their son was sullenly picking at his food, not even pretending to listen to whatever Morin was spewing. Poor kid. He didn’t deserve this. And truth be told, she and Percy didn’t deserve this either.

“Please excuse me,” Vex interrupted whatever Morin was saying, folding her napkin and setting it beside her plate. “I think I’m going to have to leave dinner early. I’m not feeling well.”

Percy made a show of putting a concerned hand over hers. “Do you think you spent too much time in the sun today?”

Vex snorted, and covered with up with a cough. Too much time in the sun. As if. But Morin seemed to buy it. As Vex and Percy got to their feet, he also rose from his chair.

“Perhaps I could be of some assistance,” he said. “I’m an experienced herbalist, you see, and—”

“I think we’ll have a doctor take a look at her if it comes to that,” Percy interrupted with an aggressively polite smile. “Thank you for the offer, though.”

“Petr,” added Vex, “you’re released from duties. Go on and eat with your siblings, if you want to.”

“ _Finally._ ” Petr slid out of his chair, picked up his plate, and was out of the room in seconds. He left his silverware, but Vex and Percy let him. If he wanted to eat with his hands, he certainly deserved it after putting up with all that bile from Morin. The other children were probably doing it already, anyway.

Percy caught a guard and told him to “See to it that our guest reaches his quarters safely,” and then walked with Vex up to their room. There, Vex shut the door and climbed onto the bed. “ _Finally,_ some peace and quiet,” she mumbled into the covers.

Percy sat down next to her and started taking pins out of her hair. “I do think he hates me,” he said, not even trying to hide the grin in his voice.

Vex turned her head to look up at him. “And I do think he hates Petr.”

Percy hesitated. “Yes, I noticed that, too. Have they even spoken to each other?”

“I don’t think so.” Vex reached back and took out the rest of the pins, and her long, inky hair dropped onto the covers a few locks at a time. “I think he’s just… you know, an asshole.”

Percy, still sitting up, made a noncommittal noise. She couldn’t see his face from this angle.

She trailed her fingers down his arm. “Something the matter, darling?”

“It’s nothing.” Percy got to his feet and started to shed his formal wear. Vex propped herself up on one elbow to watch. After a second, Percy glanced at her and snorted. “Do you want something, dear?”

She didn’t even have to reply—Percy had gotten very good at reading her body language. When he’d gotten rid of most of his layers, he took off his glasses and climbed onto the bed next to her, settling on his side. He wasn’t so nearsighted he couldn’t see her when they were this close. She smiled again and shifted forward to kiss him.

Gods, he hoped he never got used to this. He doubted he ever would—she was like a puzzle box, revealing something new every day, and he knew he was never going to see everything, and he liked it that way. He wrapped an arm around her to pull her closer, and she responded by throwing a leg over his hip. He couldn’t help but laugh, and she laughed back. That sound had Percy so absolutely in love with her that he could barely think; he just pulled her closer and kissed under her jaw, in one of her favorite spots, just to hear her laugh again.

The knock on their door was so quiet they almost didn’t hear it. But it caught Vex’s attention just enough that she went still and lifted her head.

Percy loosened his hold. “Is something the matter?”

“…I thought I heard someone knock.” Vex was frowning. The guards usually knocked louder than that, and it had sounded a little too low to the ground to have been a grown man.

She looked down at Percy and saw him also frowning. Quickly, she weighed the pros of cons of getting up versus staying there. “I’m just going to check,” she said.

She had disentangled herself and was climbing off the bed when there was another quiet knock, and Petr’s voice: “Mama? Are you there?”

He hadn’t called her ‘Mama’ since he was very small. She was already across the room and opening the door by the time she finished saying, “Yes, darling, what is it?”

Their oldest was standing outside, clutching a book to his chest, his expression uneasy. “Wasn’t that man supposed to have gone home already?” he asked.

Vex felt a jolt of adrenaline. “Which man?”

“The one from dinner. I heard Father tell a guard to take him home. But he’s still here.”

Vex looked back at Percy. He was on his feet already, tucking his shirt in.

She turned back to Petr. “Where, darling?”

“Outside a window. I saw him standing in the street, looking in.”

"Show me.”

Petr led her to a reading room on the second floor, where a candle was still burning in the window seat. Vex pushed down her instinct to remind Petr how dangerous it was to leave a candle unattended like that. He led her to the window and looked out, only to quickly step back. “He’s still there,” he whispered.

Vex looked out. She had better eyes in the dark than her children did, and she spotted him quickly. He was standing across the street, squinting up at her. He was a little too far away for her to see his expression.

She picked up the candle and blew it out. The room went dark. But she continued watching him from a couple paces back. He stared at the window for another second or two. Then he walked away down the street.

Percy stepped into the room just a second later. “I’ve sent some guards out,” he said.

“He’s already left,” Vex replied, tilting her head in an attempt to see which direction he was going. He seemed to be headed for the castle. She shut the curtains. “Come on, Petr. It’s late. Let’s get you into bed.”

           

The next morning dawned gray. Vex went out for a quick patrol of the woods, and when she returned home, she noticed lights in Percy’s workshop out behind the house. On a whim, she went to go check on him.

He was sitting at one of the worktables, hunched over something in a way that truly made her worry for his back. But what surprised her was the sight of Petr sitting in a chair to his left, flipping through a book that it took her a second to realize was one of Percy’s old sketchbooks. Not one of the really old ones, with designs for The List and Bad News and the saddle of her broom, but a newer one. She moved closer to look over his shoulder. “Which is that?” she asked.

Petr looked up. “Father said the design for Bjorn is in this book somewhere.” Bjorn was a wind-up owlbear toy that Percy had made for him when he was little. It could walk, and every few steps it would stop and tilt its head back as if roaring. “I want to try making one for Elaina.”

Vex looked up at Percy with raised brows. He smiled. “He came to me with the idea.”

“And what are you working on?” She moved to the desk and put her hands on his shoulders. He instinctively leaned backwards into the touch.

“I’m trying to make a blunt arrow that could stun a creature.” He tilted his head back to look up at her face. “You’ve told me how you wish you could just take some of these animals to a different part of the woods, further from people. With this, it might be easier to transport them.”

“You do very good work, darling.” Vex kissed him on the forehead and headed for the door, pausing to tell Petr, “And I’m sure you will, too.” She put an arm around him and kissed the top of his head.

" _Mother,_ ” he protested, ducking away, but she could still see him grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me forever to get this chapter rolling. I went through three scenes before I figured out which one I wanted to start with. I ended up cutting the other ones.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stalker stuff continues to intensify this chapter. Just so y'all are aware that this is going to get worse before it gets better

Another couple of days passed, and if anything, the situation with Morin got worse. Vex never saw him standing outside the house like a creep again, but she couldn’t help feeling watched. She took to keeping the curtains closed, and she told the children not to go outside alone. If they were going somewhere, they were to take Bobble with them.

She knew the strain was beginning to get to her, and she went to Cassandra to ask if there was a way to politely remove Morin from the city without anybody important getting too offended.

“Well,” said Cassandra, “If he’s as charming at his home as he is here, then I doubt anybody would get up in arms about you asking him to leave.” Vex had caught her in her office in the castle, and she was still writing as they talked.

Vex exhaled and sat back in her chair. “Do you have any suggestions about how to go about it?”

Cassandra shrugged. “You could start with hints. You know, ask about responsibilities in Syngorn that might need his attention. Mention how other people no doubt need his attention. If you need to, though, I give you my formal permission to have the guards remove him from the city by force.” She ran a hand through her hair, leaving a smudge of ink on her forehead. “I doubt the polite methods will work with him.”

Vex studied her. “Has he been driving you insane, too?”

“ _Yes._ ” Cassandra finally looked up. “He won’t _stop talking._ Vex’ahlia, if you can get him out of Whitestone within the week, I will _personally_ take your place the next three times you’re up for patrol.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I like the patrols. But thank you, anyway.”

 

Still, though, Vex did her best to avoid Morin. She knew he was still coming by the house—a guard had reported seeing him in the daylight, but nobody had spotted him at night again. Vex went about her business as usual while she tried to work up the courage—or perhaps the spite—to work on getting him to leave. Every time she saw him, or heard his voice down the hall, she left as quickly as she could. And she couldn’t figure out why, and she _hated_ it. This went beyond disliking him. It wasn’t like she was _afraid._ She was just… just… she didn’t know. He made her think of bad times, and she hated it.

Percy, meanwhile, seemed to be spending a lot of time in his workshop. Petr often sat with him, and Vex had to wonder whether Percy had asked him to stick close, or whether it was to ease Petr’s own mind. Once, when Vex went to check in on them, Percy noticed her approaching and by the time she reached the doorway, he was quickly putting away whatever he was working on.

“What are you hiding, darling?” She meant it to be teasing, but when she glanced at Petr, she saw that he was very deliberately not looking at her.

If she hadn’t noticed that, she probably wouldn’t have suspected anything when Percy  turned and smiled and told her, “It’s a surprise for the girls.”

Or maybe she still would have figured something was off, just from his tone of voice. Either way, she looked from her husband, to her son, and back again. “Well,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “When you decide to tell me what you’re _actually_ making, I’d like to know.”

Percy’s smile faded. “Don’t worry about it, dear. Really.”

Vex studied him for another moment. “All right,” she said at last. “Tell me when you’re ready, I suppose.”

           

The strain was getting to all of them. Percy and Vex kept going to sleep at different times all that week, so they didn’t get to talk before bed. If Percy went to sleep at a decent time, then Vex was still up reading a book. If Vex went to sleep before midnight, then Percy was still out in his workshop doing whatever he still wouldn’t tell her about.

Once, on a night when Percy climbed into bed maybe an hour after Vex did, he briefly woke as Vex was disentangling herself from him. The bed shifted when she got up, and Percy pried his eyes open just long enough to see her pulling on a pair of boots before he drifted off again.

But a while later, he woke again and realized that Vex wasn’t back. He pushed himself up on his elbow and squinted at the door to the bathroom, but there was no light coming from underneath. He felt a small jolt of worry, but he pushed it away. He got out of bed and went looking for her, trying very hard not to start panicking.

Gladly, she wasn’t far. He found her just down the hall in one of the spare rooms, sitting in the window seat with the window open to the night air. It was dark in the room, and for a second all he could see was something thin in one of her hands, and a small knife in the other. He wasn’t sure what she was doing until he smelled the glue.

“Vex, are you fletching arrows?” he asked, stepping into the room.

She glanced up. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“What _time_ is it?”

Vex glanced out the window. “Four o’clock in the morning, give or take.” There was an odd inflection to her voice. Percy stepped over and spared a glance out the window. Nobody in sight. And this window faced the woods, anyway, not the street.

“Are you all right?” he asked her, sitting down at her side.

“I don’t think so.” She set her fletching knife down on the windowsill and put the arrow aside. After a pause, she gave a shaky sigh. “I think I had a nightmare.” She was silent for a moment, her eyes on the floor. “Did I ever tell you about why Vax joined the Clasp?’

Percy thought for a second. “I assumed it was for money. And protection.”

Vex sighed. “Back… before we met the others, someone was stalking me. Eventually they paid the Clasp to kill me, and Vax made a deal to save me.” She gave a brittle laugh. “He… did that a lot, I suppose.”

She didn’t seem to be finished, so Percy waited for her to continue. She rubbed the heel of her hand against one of her eyes. “And. Um. All this business with, with Morin… I think it’s. It’s bringing up bad memories.”

Percy wordlessly put his arm around her. He couldn’t think of anything to say in this situation that might help. So, he said nothing. He hated it when he couldn’t think of anything to say.

Vex gave another shuddering sigh. “Do you still have your earring?” she asked him. “The one we all used to use to talk to each other over distances?”

“Of course.”

“Do you think you could wear yours? At least until a few days after he’s left.”

Percy nodded. “Of course.” He hugged her a little tighter, and his voice was quiet when he added, “I think it might give both of us some peace of mind.”

Finally, Vex looked up at him. “Have you been having nightmares, as well?”

“No more than usual. It’s just, he…” Percy exhaled. “I don’t know why, but—the more I see of him, the more I can’t stop thinking of when the Briarwoods came to Whitestone. They hardly seemed a threat until they poisoned us over dinner.” He took a shaky breath. “I keep thinking about Petr, and the twins, and—and what something like that would do to them… just, this whole situation feels rotten.”

Vex nodded. “Cassandra gave me permission to kick him out. I think I’ll tell him tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to do it?” Percy asked her. “I’m very good at telling people things they don’t want to hear.”

Vex gave a soft laugh, but quickly sobered. “No, I’ll do it myself. Cassandra told me to try being polite about it first, but, honestly? I don’t want to be polite to him. He doesn’t deserve it.”

Percy nodded. After a second he said, “Be careful about it, all right? Even you have blind spots. Have a guard or two with you, just in case.”

She nodded. “Of course.”

For a moment, they just sat. The only sound was from the creatures in the woods outside. Vex closed her eyes, letting the noise wash over her. She missed camping in the woods. Perhaps once Morin was gone, she’d take a tent and just go be alone for a while.

“Let’s go back to bed,” Percy said at last. “Safety in numbers. And we need our rest.”

Vex gave one last sigh. “All right. Let me just clean up.”

“I’ll help you.”

 

The next day, Vex went to the castle and sat in the main library. She had a guard stand outside, on the off chance she needed a hand. She’d chosen the library specifically because it was big and open, and it had lots of windows. It was a familiar place. Favored territory, so to speak. It was not inside her house, and she would not be thinking about this confrontation every time she stepped into this room afterward. Plenty of other things had happened in this room.

As she predicted, she didn’t need to summon Morin. He came to her. When he entered the library with a guard right behind him, she looked up. “Ah,” she said, closing her book. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“Have you really?” he asked with an unconvincing smile. If anything, he seemed wary.

She put on a polite expression and got to her feet. “Yes, actually. You see, it’s been about a month since you came to Whitestone, and the message we received from Syngorn told us that you were to stay for a week before moving on.”

“I decided that Whitestone takes priority. After all, the current generation of the de Rolo family is fairly new to ruling. Making connections early on is essential to a strong bond between here and Syngorn.”

Vex nodded. “We received a second letter,” she lied. “Asking if we knew your whereabouts. Your contacts in Syngorn believe their letters to you have been waylaid, and they asked me to inform you that they would very much like you to move on, as soon as possible.”

There was a pause while Morin just stared at her. Then he said, “You didn’t receive any letter from Syngorn. I’ve seen all the letters you’ve gotten.”

Vex made herself take a deep breath. What was one more reason to get him the hell out of Whitestone? “The fact remains that you have overstayed your welcome, Mr. Aewenys, and you blatantly taken advantage of Whitestone’s hospitality. We respectfully ask you to gather your things and be out of the city by the end of the day.”

“That is not a lot of time.”

“You’ve had two extra weeks to leave on your own,” Vex replied. “The guards have been instructed to see you out by sunset. You have the full day to do what you want. Please use that time wisely.” She sat back down and pretended to start back into her book.If she’d been planning to be polite, that went out the window the second he told he'd been reading her mail.

After a minute, Morin left. Vex told the guard, “Could you make sure that our guest does not get off-track?”

“Yes, my lady.” The guard followed Morin.

As soon as the door shut, Vex dropped her head onto the desk and exhaled. Okay. He’d be gone by the end of the day. The guards already had instructions to be on the lookout for him after that. If he was caught in Whitestone after the time limit he was given, he was going to be thrown into the dungeon and someone from Syngorn would just have to come get him. It was almost over.

           

Cassandra de Rolo had not had a very good morning. She’d left a pile of things to sign on her desk in the morning, and had been dismayed to find that they did not magically disappear overnight. Percy hadn’t been keeping up with his share of the work. Nor had Vex. They had other things to worry about, of course, but she couldn’t help being irritated. She’d chosen to level this irritation at Morin Aewenys. After all, he’d been the one to show up and throw everybody off. Stupid, self-centered prick.

She sat up and rolled her shoulders. Her spine popped. When she glanced out the window, she saw that it had to be nearly noon. Good lord. She hadn’t been out of her chair in hours.

Cassandra got to her feet and stretched again, and decided to go for a walk around the castlegrounds, just to get some exercise. She passed a set of the guards, and she asked whether Vex had given Morin his time limit yet. They told her that they’d heard she had, and Cassandra breathed a sigh of relief. Good riddance.

The gardens were a little bare—even in mid-spring, Whitestone was a little cold for most plants—but it was calm and quiet. A good place to be alone.

She was around the back of the castle, thinking about heading back inside, when she heard a wheeze from somewhere off in the scrubby evergreen bushes. Cassandra paused, reaching for the knife she kept strapped to her side. There hadn’t been any attacks on Whitestone in a long time, but the ones she’d endured still gave her nightmares.

“Who’s there?” she called.

The response was barely audible. “Lady Cassandra?”

She shoved into the bushes and found a guard lying there, his uniform stained red. She gasped and dropped to her knees, pulling her coat off and unbuckling his armor. There was a ragged hole in the front, though the way it ripped implied it had come from behind him. She sorely hoped that the wound was not what she thought it was. Grimly she finished removing his armor, and she tied her coat around him as tightly as she could manage. It wouldn’t do much for the bleeding, but it was what she had.

“Don’t move,” she told him. “I’ll be right back with a healer.”

The man took a shaky breath. “So sorry… Aewenys… attacked…”

“I know,” she said. “I know. I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t… don’t let him…”

“I won’t.” When the coat was as tight as she could get it, Cassandra scrambled to her feet and sprinted for the nearest guard station, praying with every step that Morin hadn’t gotten far.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might come back to this and make edits, but I gave myself a deadline of today to get this posted so here it is!

Percy was in his workshop, helping Petr with the owlbear toy. Vex had contacted him through the earring earlier to tell him how it had gone over, and he’d stepped away to talk to her, keeping his voice low. “He seemed like he’s going to go quietly for now,” Vex told him. “But keep an eye out, all right? Just in case.”

“Of course, Vex.”

“Is Petr with you?”

“Yes.”

“All right. Do you know where the girls are?”

Percy snorted. “Running around the woods with Bobble. And Elaina is in the nursery. Yes, there is a guard in the hallway, yes she knows he’s there, and no she doesn’t know specifically why he’s there. I didn’t want to scare her.”

Vex sighed. “We’ll explain once this is all over.”

“Probably best.” Percy glanced back over at Petr. He’d been filing the same gear since Percy stepped away. Most likely, he was so focused on listening to what Percy was saying that he hadn’t thought to move on to the next edge.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Percy told Vex. Then he went back over to the table. “I think you might have taken a little too much off of that one,” he said. “But we can still check and see if it works.”

“Oh.” Petr looked down at the gear. “Sorry.”

“No, nothing to be sorry about. I’ve made the same mistake. May I see it?”

Petr handed the gear over, and Percy started to fit it in with the with the rest of the mechanics. “About what your mother and I were saying. Morin Aewenys is leaving today, and we just want to make sure he gets on his way before it gets to be too late to travel.”

Petr just looked him, and Percy felt a pang of regret. Petr was smart enough that he knew well what was actually going on. Or he’d figured out a decent amount, at least. Really, Percy and Vex didn’t gain anything by refusing to explain at this point. He was involved, and he was old enough to know why.

Percy sighed and straightened, setting the toy down on the table. “I know your mother and I don’t always explain things well,” he began.

“I know that man’s been following Mother,” Petr interrupted.

Percy turned to look at him. “What?” he said, more sharply than he meant to.

Petr drew back a little at his father’s tone. Then he looked down and fidgeted with a button on his shirt. “Well, I mean, after the dinner. And after I saw him in the window. The next day, when Mother went out, that man was there, and he followed her, and I didn’t like him so I followed after him. He tried to follow her into the woods, but I think he got lost because he came back really quickly.”

Percy stared. Vex hadn’t mentioned this. Had she just decided not to tell him about it? Or—and this was chilling to think about—had Vex not _noticed?_

“Petr,” said Percy. “Why didn’t you tell us about this?”

Petr’s expression turned mulish. “You and Mother weren’t telling me anything and I didn’t want to get in trouble for knowing because I wasn’t supposed to know.”

Percy gave a laugh that felt so strange it nearly scratched in his throat. “Petr, we would never punish you for knowing things.” He paused and cleared his throat. “What else do you know about our guest?”

“He hates me,” Petr said matter-of-factly. “And he hates you. And I think he hates Mother but he’s strange about it.”

"Could you explain a little more?”

Petr opened his mouth to reply, but then movement in the doorway caught his attention and his mouth snapped shut so quickly his teeth clicked. Percy followed his gaze, but he couldn’t see outside from this angle. “What is it?” he asked, stepping over so he could look.

And at that moment, Morin stepped into the workshop.

Percy instinctively stepped back. Morin was smiling pleasantly, and he sure wasn’t acting like a man who had been told unceremoniously by the ruling family to get the hell out.

“Hello,” Percy said politely. “Do you want something?”

“Yes, I’ve been meaning to visit this place.” Morin stepped further into the workshop and looked around, taking everything in. “Is this where you make your guns?”

Percy tensed. “I don’t make guns anymore.” Beside him, Petr quietly climbed off his stool and moved to stand half behind his father, leaning around him to peer at the intruder. Percy reached one arm back and found his arm, just so he could be sure where Petr was.

“Why ever not?” Morin asked.

“Because I never should have created them in the first place.” Percy wished his heart would stop racing. “If you don’t need anything, then I really need to get back to work. And I believe you have limited time left in Whitestone, I would hate for you to waste it in here.”

“What are you working on?”

“Nothing in particular.”

Morin had moved away from the door now. Percy considered telling Petr to leave. He didn’t like the tilt of Morin’s head, or the way he kept his shoulders hunched.

“I’d like to see it anyway.” Morin asked, coming over to the table. Percy moved aside, edging Petr back towards the door. If Morin noticed, he didn’t let on. “A toy?”

“Yes. For my youngest.” He didn’t mention that he wasn’t technically the one making it. He was not going to draw attention to Petr right now. He gestured behind his back for Petr to move towards the door, but Petr didn’t move. Percy silently cursed.

“Sir Aewenys,” he said out loud. “I don’t particularly like people coming into my workshop unannounced. And I believe you are meant to be using this time to pack. Perhaps you should leave.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” Morin rested his fingers on the papers where Petr had sketched out the plans. “You see, I came to Whitestone wishing to see it for myself. All of this.” He gestured around the workshop and finished with what might have been a cursory wave in Percy and Petr’s direction. His tone of voice was strange, and Percy decidedly didn’t like it.

“That’s surprising. Whitestone doesn’t get many tourists.” Percy gestured again for Petr to get out of the workshop. But he either didn’t understand or refused to go.

“I wasn’t interested in Whitestone,” Morin said. “I was interested in you.”

“Me?” Percy repeated. He glanced down at Petr and mouthed, _Go._ In response, Petr just gripped Percy’s arm.

Morin didn’t comment, though he had to have seen the exchange. “No. Not you. Not you specifically. I wanted to see what became of Vex’ahlia Vessar.”

Percy had nearly pushed Petr outside now. “She is Lady Vex’ahlia de Rolo now,” he said. “Lady Vex’ahlia de Rolo of the First House of Whitestone, Grand Mistress of the Gray Hunt.”

Morin sneered. “She was mine before she was yours, _clockmaker_. I made my decision years ago and I stand by it—if I can’t have her, then nobody will.”

Percy spoke into his earring as well as to his son: “Petr, go find your mother.”

“Darling?” Vex replied immediately.

Morin reached into his coat, snarling, “Don’t you move, half-devil!” But at the same moment as he dragged a pistol out of his coat, Percy snatched his old revolver from behind a box on a table and aimed it at Morin.

He’d been hiding his efforts to repair it from Vex. He hadn’t wanted her to know exactly how bad the nightmares gotten since Morin had come. With luck, he’d thought, cleaning it up would just be a way to settle his nerves. A reassurance that he wouldn’t truly need. Then he’d be able to just put it back in a box and let it rust.

It was heavier than he remembered.

“Do not threaten my son,” Percy told Morin, his voice as tense as a spring. “Petr, go.”

This time, Petr went. He turned and ran out the door, though Percy couldn’t see where exactly he was headed. With luck, he was headed into the house, where there were lots of guards to get him someplace safe.

For a moment after that, the room was still. The two men remained where they were, each waiting for the other to move first. Even though he wasn’t looking at it directly, Percy recognized Morin’s gun as the design that Anna Ripley had been passing out to people.

Percy was the first to speak. “What’s your plan now? The guards will be here as soon as they’re alerted. You are not getting out of this and you are most certainly not getting to Vex.”

Morin sneered. “I would settle for carving through you and some of your _spawn_ first _._ I’ll get to her eventually. It didn’t work last time, when I tried to have someone do it for me. That cursed brother of hers struck a deal for her life and I never _heard_ from the Clasp again! Those cowardly, self-serving—” Morin’s hand was trembling, and Percy wasn’t sure where to watch. He’d dealt with enraged gunmen pointing his own weapons at him before, but not like this. Normally they started shooting at him right away. Did he watch the hands? The eyes?

Then Morin’s attention darted to the doorway behind Percy. He moved to aim at something there, and in that instant Percy felt as if he’d been dunked in ice water. Petr. He must have come back to the workshop. Morin was going to shoot Petr.

Percy moved to block Morin’s view of the door, glancing over his shoulder to see—nothing. An empty doorway. No Petr.

 _A bluff,_ he realized too late. Then Morin was in front of him and he cracked Percy in the head with the butt of his gun. Percy grunted in pain but didn’t fall—though he stumbled backwards, and Morin grabbed the barrel of his gun and ripped it away.

“Percy?” Vex said in his earring. “Percy, where are you right now?”

“Out the door,” Morin said, shoving the second gun into his pocket and keeping his own weapon aimed at Percy. “And no funny business.”

“Do not give me orders in my own workshop,” Percy replied.

Morin punched him in the stomach. Years ago, it wouldn’t have hurt much, but Percy had been happily out of practice at taking hits. Right this minute, it didn’t seem so fortunate. He doubled over and dropped to one knee, grabbing the side of the table, gasping.

“I will not hesitate to end you,” Morin snarled. “I will do whatever I must to make her come to me.”

Percy only managed a grunt before Morin grabbed the back of his collar and dragged him upright. “Go,” he ordered, shoving him between his shoulder blades. Percy took two trotting steps through the doorway. There was nobody in sight. The woods were right there, but Percy was not nearly as good in the trees as Vex. Morin would probably shoot him before he could get far, and he was not keen on ever taking a bullet again.

“Percy,” said Vex in his earring. “I’m on my way. _Please_  don’t do anything rash.”

 _I’m not rash,_ Percy thought indignantly, though he managed to resist saying it out loud. And though he hated to admit it, he didn’t have many opportunities to act right now. He was going to have to wait until something presented itself.

 

Vex was panicking. She’d still been in the palace library still when she heard Percy over the earring, first telling their oldest to go find her, and then telling someone, “Do not threaten my son.” It didn’t take too much imagination to figure out who he was talking to.

Within seconds, Vex had snatched up her weapons and thrown the door open. There were no guards immediately in sight; she sprinted down the hall and rounded a corner, nearly slamming into a guard who was heading from somewhere to somewhere else, she didn’t care what he was supposed to be doing _._  “Petr and Lord Percival are in danger,” she told the guard. “Morin Aewenys has shown his true colors. Spread the word to find Lady Cassandra, and get my children to safety.”

The man nodded and clattered off down the hall. The guards knew better than to argue; few of them had seen her hunt before, but they all knew stories.

She was racing out of the castle when she heard Percy grunt in pain. “Percy?” she said into her earring. “Percy, where are you right now?”

He muttered, “Do not give me orders in my own workshop.” This was followed by an “ _Oof!_ ” as something—a fist, probably, or a knee—expelled the air from his lungs. She winced.

But now she knew where he was. Thank Pelor he’d grown up enough during their travels to ask for help when he needed it. She left the palace at a run and sprinted through the streets, dodging people and horses and a couple of guards that tried to ask her what was wrong. She didn’t have time to stop and explain.

“Percy," she said. "I'm on my way. _Pl_ _ease_ don't do anything rash."

No response. She felt like she was going to be sick, but there was no time for it. She vaulted over somebody’s cart, whipped around a corner, and raced down the street towards her home.

Going through the house would take too much time. When she reached the house, she went around the side and emerged into the small garden where Percy’s workshop stood. It wasn’t difficult to spot Morin and Percy—they were standing right in the open. Already, two guards were standing near the house with their weapons leveled at Morin. But their weapons weren’t rifles, they were pikes, and the guards had stopped far out of range. Morin had an arm around Percy’s neck and a gun held against the side of his head.

All the breath left Vex’s lungs, and she jerked to a halt. _Dawnfather, Raven Queen, whoever’s listening, please no. Please no. Not him, not again._

Before she even realized she was moving, Vex nocked an arrow and took aim and shouted, “ _Morin Aewenys!_ ”

All attention immediately snapped to her. Morin instinctively aimed the gun towards her, and Percy jolted as if to stop him. But as soon as he saw who she was, Morin trained the gun on Percy again. “Vex’ahlia!” he called. “Thank you for saving me the—”

“Let him go!” Vex ordered. She didn’t give a damn what sort of speech he had prepared for her. “If you hurt him, I _swear_ to you, you will not leave this place with your head attached to your shoulders!”

Morin actually laughed, though she could tell that he was nervous. He clearly hadn’t though this through. But he was too far in and too far gone to stop now.

One of the guards beside her muttered, “Lady Cassandra is on her way. She found the guard he shot.”

 _Shit._ “Is the guard alive?”

“Yes, my lady.”

Vex exhaled. At least she hadn’t gotten that guard killed. But if he’d attacked one guard, had he attacked anyone else? Had he attacked her children as well? Or had he gone straight for Percy?

“Percy,” she said. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, dear.”

Morin pressed the barrel under Percy’s chin and hissed, “I wouldn’t say you’re _fine,_ whelp.” Percy tilted his head away from the gun and scowled.

Then, something on the other side of the house seemed to catch Percy's attention. Vex followed his gaze and spotted Petr, half hidden around the corner. Morin didn’t seem to have noticed him yet. She wanted to tell Petr to go hide, but she couldn’t risk what might happen if she alerted Morin to his presence. Right now, he was focused enough on the guards and on Vex that he didn’t seem to see much else.

“Let him go,” Vex called out again. “If you let him go, I promise you will be unharmed.”

"I don’t _care_ if I’m unharmed,” Morin snapped. “As long as I get to hurt _you!_ ” And then he pointed the gun at Vex again, and before she or Percy or any of the guards could move, a girl’s voice—Vesper’s voice—rose from in the woods by the workshop.

“ _Hey!_ ”

Percy had his back to the woods, so he didn’t see Bobble coming. He was too focused on realizing that _Morin was going to shoot Vex_ and then Morin jolted behind him and the gun went off right in Percy’s ear. For a moment the ringing pain in his head was so intense he couldn’t move, and he was sure he must be dead. But the blinding agony faded to a sharp, stabbing pain in his ear and he realized he was alive, and Morin was struggling against something. His hold had loosened.

Somewhere behind him, Marie shouted, “Get him, Bobble!”

“Bobble, no!” Vex shouted from across the garden. Morin swore and there was another gunshot and Percy tasted metal in the back of his mouth. Both of the girls screamed. He could just barely see them out of the corner of his eye, half hiding behind the workshop. But Morin was still struggling and Bobble was still growling, which meant the dog was still alive.

Percy grabbed for Morin’s gun but missed. He didn’t bother trying again; he was already throwing himself forward, focused on getting away. Morin shouted, and Percy hit the ground and rolled and came up on one knee and he made the mistake of glancing back. Morin was right there, aiming the pistol at him and squeezing the trigger.

“ _Percy!_ ” Vex screamed.

In that instant Percy thought of his father, and watching him collapse onto the floor as the Briarwoods smiled across the table. He thought of Scanlan and how furious he’d been at Vox Machina for letting Kaylie see him dead. He thought of Vex, and everybody she’d already lost. He hoped Pike was available for another godsdamned resurrection and he hoped Vex and Cassandra would get someone to keep the children far away from it.

And across the garden, unseen, Petr reached out and shouted something in an unfamiliar language that burned up his throat like bile.

Morin stopped and coughed.

And then he coughed again, and black smoke burbled out of his mouth like ink through water and he grabbed at his throat and he _screamed._

Percy launched to his feet and ran for Petr. Behind him, Morin let out another strangled cry and fired blindly, but missed.

Petr was on his knees on the grass with his hand still extended. He watched, his face slack with horror, as Morin crumpled to his knees and choked on the smoke billowing around his head like something from a nightmare.

A second later, Percy reached his son and hauled him around the corner, out of sight. Petr was cold and trembling as like to shake apart as Percy clutched the boy to himself, taking his eyes off of Morin. “I’ve got you,” Percy told him. “It’s all right, Petr. You’re all right.”

Petr hiccupped and tried to say something, but his voice cracked. Percy rubbed the back of his head, rocking back and forth. He could hear Morin still screaming and he could hear the guards calling to each other, but he kept his eyes down, focusing on his son. “Shh, shh, shh, it’s fine, you’re fine, Petr, just let it go. Let him go. He won’t hurt you. We won’t let him hurt you.”

Another hiccup. “He—he was going to—”

“He didn’t, its all right, you’re all right.” The screaming had stopped by now, and so Percy risked a glance at Morin. He was on his stomach on the ground, held there by two guards as a third bound his wrists. The smoke had dissipated; he seemed to be breathing. Vex stood nearby, her arrow gone from her bow. Percy hadn’t even noticed her fire it. When she noticed Percy looking, her mouth formed a straight line.

“Everyone is all right,” Percy told his son. “You stopped him. I’m sorry. Thank you. I’m so sorry, Petr.” He was just talking, too overwhelmed by the knowledge that he was still alive, that Petr was unhurt, that Vex and the girls and Cassandra were all fine.

Petr hiccupped again and lifted his head. His eyes widened. “Father, you’re bleeding.”

“What?” Percy followed Petr’s gaze down to his arm. There was blood soaking his sleeve; it seemed that Morin's bullet hadn't missed entirely. Well. He was certainly going to feel that once the adrenaline wore off. “Just a graze,” Percy said. “I’ve had much worse.”

Footsteps alerted him to someone approaching, and he and Petr looked up just as Vex reached them. Petr let go of Percy. “Mama,” he whimpered, and then he threw his arms around her and he started to cry. Vex put one arm around him and the other around Percy, hugging them both close to her. She was trembling.

Percy turned his head enough to look across the grass for their other children. He immediately spotted Bobble, limping towards them with Vesper on one side and Marie on the other. All three of them looked slightly ashamed, like they knew they were in for a scolding.

And they were. Just not today. Percy sighed and held out one arm. “Come here,” he told them.

Vesper and Marie charged forward to join the rest of their family. Bobble arrived a beat later and pressed against their legs, whuffling at Percy in concern. Percy rubbed his between the ears. There was blood reddening the dog’s furry coat. It didn’t look bad, but it would be if he wasn’t seen to. “I don’t know why you’re so worried,” Percy muttered to him. “You’re in worse shape than I am.”

That caught Vex’s attention. She gasped. “Percy! Why didn’t you tell me you’re hurt?”

“Seemed like it wasn’t very important just now.”

“I— _ugh!_ ” She leaned back—still not letting go of any of them—and called to a guard, “Find me a doctor as soon as Morin is locked up!” Then she leaned back in and told Percy, “Hold still, darling.” She put her hand on his injury, and he felt the cool healing magic seep into his skin. Percy hadn’t really registered how badly it hurt until it stopped hurting quite so much. He exhaled, and the tension drained from his shoulders. “Thank you,” he murmured to Vex.

She put her forehead against his shoulder and sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the ending.


	6. Chapter 6

Cassandra arrived as the guards were hauling Morin to his feet. The man was pale and shaking, but definitively alive and still glaring at Vex and her family with undiminished hatred. Cassandra had her bow and arrows out was breathing heavily. “I came as quickly as I could,” she called as she got within earshot. “I had to get someone to safety. Are you all right?”

“I believe so,” Percy replied.

She gave Morin and his guards a wide berth and trotted to a halt next to her brother. “Percival, there’s blood all over your sleeve.”

“It was nothing major. Vex took care of it.” He reached down and touched Vex’s shoulder, careful not to disturb her. She was kneeling over Bobble, cleaning him up and doing what she could for his wound, since she’d had experience with this kind of thing when she had Trinket.

Then Cassandra looked down at Petr. While Percy and Vex had been able to convince the twins to go upstairs with some guards, Petr had not stopped clutching one parent or the other since everything happened. Right now he stood just behind Percy, crumpling his father’s sleeve in his fist.

Cassandra’s expression softened. “How are you doing, Petr?”

Petr squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his face against Percy’s side, shaking his head.

Cassandra looked to her brother for an interpretation. “Later, I think,” he said quietly. “Today has been… a lot.”

She exhaled. “Yes. I can imagine.” There was a pause where she seemed to be trying to think of something else to say. But when she came up with nothing, she looked around. “Well,” she said. “I can at least take care of the cleanup. You all should go get looked at.”

Cassandra took care of the rest of cleanup, including making sure Morin was thoroughly checked over for more weapons and then locked securely in the dungeons of Whitestone Castle. Meanwhile, Percy went with the children to get looked at by an actual doctor. The girls were all right, which was a relief. Percy’s injury was small enough now that a minor healing spell took care of it. His arm would be sore for a few days, but that was nothing.

Petr didn’t have any injuries, although he was deeply shaken. Percy watched him for any sign of chills, or shadows under his eyes, or a telltale cough, but there was nothing. He just looked tired and scared.

Roughly an hour after Vex and Percy returned to their house, Cassandra sent a messenger to tell them that some people from Syngorn had arrived to collect Morin. She wanted to know whether they wanted to see him leave, and Percy and Vex debated for a little bit—they thought somebody should stay with the children—before deciding that Vex was going to go, and Percy was going to stay home.

Vex took her bow and arrows with her, and she had two guards with her all the way up to the castle. There had been more guards around the house, too, ever since the incident. They were fairly sure that Morin had been acting alone, but past experience wouldn’t let them relax just because he was imprisoned.

She didn’t recognize the elves who had come to pick him up. There were three of them, two guard-looking ones and one that seemed more of the diplomatic type. All were grim-faced and quiet as the Whitestone guards unlocked Morin’s cell and pulled him out. He kept his head down this time, though Vex could still see his sneer.

“We will see to it that he is dealt with accordingly,” the diplomat told Vex and Cassandra. “I hope that this… incident… has not harmed Syngorn’s standing with Whitestone.”

 _As if it ever had any,_ Vex thought. Out loud, she said, “I would like to think not.”

The diplomat nodded to his two guards, and they gripped Morin’s arms. The diplomat began to mutter and draw something in the air, and Vex recognized the beginnings of a teleportation spell.

“One more thing, before you go,” she said, stepping forward. The elf stopped his casting and looked at her, a little irritated. “You should know that if Morin Aewenys ever shows his face in Whitestone again, the Pale Guard and any riflemen have permission to kill him on sight.”

The diplomat frowned. “That seems drastic, Lady Vex’ahlia.”

“He tried to kill Lord Percival, as well as me and my children. _Drastic_ would be releasing him into the woods and then hunting him down.” She turned her attention back to Morin, who still wasn’t looking at her. “Do you understand me, Morin Aewenys?”

He said nothing.

Vex stepped forward. “Do. You. Understand me?”

One of the guards shook Morin, and he glanced at her. “Yes,” he muttered.

“Good.” Vex stepped back. The diplomat-mage finished his spell, and the four elves disappeared.

As soon as they were gone, Vex suddenly felt very old and very tired. Cassandra must have seen her sag, because she asked if Vex was okay to walk home.

“I’m fine,” Vex said. “I just… want to be in bed, I suppose.”

“Then you should go.” Cassanra sighed. “I need some rest, too.”

                    

Vex returned home to find that dinner was almost ready. Instead of the dining room, she and her family decided to eat in one of the sitting rooms. Elaina sat in Vex’s lap while she ate. Bobble tried to lie down in Petr’s lap, but he was a little too big so he settled for putting his head on the boy’s knee. They ate in exhausted silence. Even Elaina seemed to pick up on the heavy atmosphere.

After dark, Percy and Vex went around and put their younger children to bed. Petr had insisted for years now that he was too old to be tucked in, but Vex and Percy checked on him anyway. When they knocked, they heard quick footsteps and a rustle of sheets before Petr said, “Uh, come in!”

Vex opened the door as Petr was pulling his covers up. His curtains were open, and they could see that his chair had been dragged from his desk to the window, as if he’d been sitting and looking down into the street before they knocked.

Percy crossed the room and gently closed the curtains. “He’s not coming back,” he told Petr quietly. “You don’t need to watch for him.”

Petr only looked down at the covers.

Vex sat on the bed and smoothed her son’s hair. “How are you doing?”

Petr didn’t speak right away. He seemed to be wrestling with the words. At last, he pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. “Mother… what did I do to him?”

“You used magic,” Vex replied.

“Why do I have magic? You and Father don’t have magic like that.”

Vex looked at Percy, so Petr looked at Percy, too. Percy carefully sat down on Petr’s other side and paused, trying to decide how to word this. “I used to have magic like that,” he admitted. “It’s a very long story. Probably not a story for today, it… wouldn’t make for a very good bedtime tale. Suffice it to say that you got it from me.”

“Is it dangerous?”

Vex managed a smile. “Anything is dangerous if you use it wrong. But if you use it right, it can be a very important tool.”

Petr looked down at his covers again.

“Though you don’t have to use it at all,” Percy added. “If you don’t want to. Do you remember Zarha? She might be able to give you some advice about what to do.”

Petr nodded, though he didn’t say anything. He was clutching the covers in the way that he tended to when he was trying to decide whether to ask a question.

Vex put a hand on his back. “What is it, darling?”

He curled up a little tighter, hiding half his face behind his knees. His voice was muffled when he asked, “Can I sleep in your room tonight?”

Vex gave him a one-armed hug. “Of course.”

The bed that she and Percy shared wasn’t _enormous,_ but it was certainly big enough to accommodate Petr. Elaina was still young enough that she would come climb into their bed after a nightmare, so it was nothing they weren’t used to. Percy and Vex changed in the bathroom attached, and when Vex emerged, she found Percy looking through one of his sketchbooks with Petr. Vex went and sat on her son’s other side. “Are these from the Feywild?” she asked Percy.

“Yes, they are.”

Petr looked between them. “You never told me you went to the Feywild before.”

“Oh, we went a lot of places,” Vex murmured.

"Like where?”

“We can tell you tomorrow,” Percy said. He closed the sketchbook and pulled away. As he was putting it away on a shelf, a knock came on the door, and a second later the door opened. Elaina stood outside in her little nightgown, with Marie and Vesper behind her.

“Vesper and Marie said Petr was sleeping in here and I want to sleep in here too,” Elaina announced, trotting inside. Marie and Vesper at least had the decency to look sheepish as they entered. Bobble followed them into the room.

Percy raised his eyebrows at Vex. “Well, we can’t very well tell them no.”

Vex sighed. “All right, you three, come on.” She held out her arm to help Elaina climb up. It took some work, getting all six of them arranged in a bed really meant to be spacious for two people. And when they were nearly done, Bobble decided he was not going to be left out. He jumped up and flopped on top of two of the children and Percy’s injured arm. There was quite a lot of muffled yelling and shuffling around before they managed to get Bobble somewhere so he wasn’t crushing anyone. Getting him off the bed wasn’t an option.

Vex had to turn out the lights, and then she climbed under the blankets. Before she settled, she did one last head count. Petr. Marie. Vesper. Elaina. Good. All here. All safe. None of her family had been taken away from her, not this time. She laid down and took a second to get settled before she put an arm over Marie, searching until she found Percy’s hand under the covers. She squeezed. He squeezed back. And neither of them let go when, at last, they slept.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at [severalsmallhedgehogs](severalsmallhedgehogs.tumblr.com)


End file.
